Fatal police shooting becomes heated issue at Lauderhill City Hall

Cedric Telasco, 21, was shot outside his Lauderhill home in March after,… (Photo courtesy of )

May 20, 2011|By Juan Ortega, Sun Sentinel

LAUDERHILL — A late-night confrontation in which one or more municipal police officers shot and killed a 21-year-old man outside his home almost two months ago is still roiling City Hall.

In his last act, Cedric Telasco charged at officers with a steak knife, a search warrant says, possibly while in the grip of schizophrenia. The March 29 incident is believed to be the first deadly police-involved shooting in the Lauderhill Police Department's 16-year history.

The killing has sent a Broward County commissioner, political activists and Telasco's family to city meetings to criticize the police department's handling of the case. The group demands accountability and more transparency about the slaying, mainly because authorities refuse to explain what led police to shoot Telasco, or even release the names of the officers involved.

Commissioner Dale Holness, 54, who is in a relationship with Telasco's mother, Nadege Lanoue, 47, says the young man was like a son to him. The couple was inside the home when the shooting occurred on the lawn. Hearing gunfire, they tried to step outside, but officers ordered them to stay put, he said, under threat of arrest.

"I hope that the truth comes out," Holness told the Sun Sentinel last week. "I hope that justice is done, and we look to see how we can train our police to use more skill, care and diligence."

Said Lanoue: "This is killing me one minute at a time."

Telasco was born on June 8, 1989, in Montreal. He moved with his family to Broward a decade ago, said Lanoue, a registered nurse. All around the family home are mementoes of him: On the living room piano, a portrait of a smiling, handsome young man; in a bedroom, trophies, medals and jerseys from his hockey and track-and-field days.

Lanoue flipped through his sketch book, showing the flashy cars he drew while dreaming of designing his own.

He graduated from Nova High School in 2007 and was pursuing an associate's degree at Broward College. Meanwhile, he took up several jobs, working at a fast-food restaurant, as a security guard at an office building, and, most recently, handing out fliers to promote a tax-preparation company, Lanoue said.

As a teen, he spent a year working at an auto shop to save money to buy a car, his mother said. He convinced his mother to take him to North Carolina, where he pounced on what looked like a good deal. The car broke down three times on the drive back to Broward, but each time, he fixed it, she said.

"He was a determined, brilliant kid," Lanoue said. "He was a very caring young man, very protective of his [three] siblings and very loving of his mother."

The diagnosis of schizophrenia three-and-a-half years ago was a disheartening moment for Telasco, but he coped with it, she said. Whenever he took his medication, he was fine.

Whenever he didn't or had it adjusted, he had trouble sleeping and paced the house. He would fret about his computer or video games getting hacked and call Comcast, she said.

In January, Lauderhill police confined him under the state's Baker Act, a law allowing mental health professionals and authorities to detain a person for up to 72 hours to determine mentally stability.

Lanoue said she had phoned police because she wanted help persuading her son to go to a hospital for treatment. The first officer who responded was holding a baton and "getting ready to talk loud," she said, when Lanoue cautioned that her son wasn't dangerous and could be reasoned with.

A second officer said, "Come on, let's go," and Telasco followed, she said. "It's just a matter of approach."

On March 28, the day before the shooting, Telasco and his mother visited his doctor and had his medicine adjusted because the old prescription kept him constantly hungry, Lanoue said. At about 1:30 a.m. on March 29, he asked to borrow Lanoue's phone, but she declined and urged him to try to get some sleep.

Telasco found a phone and called 911 about 20 minutes later, police said. In a recording of the call that police released days later, he described himself to an operator, warning a "black guy, really good looking" was standing in a doorway with a knife. Police should "just come and do what you have to do," he said.

Accounts of what happened next differ. The day of the shooting, a police spokesman said about three officers were involved, but he did not know how many opened fire. A search warrant stated that four officers discharged their firearms at Telasco.

The warrant said the four officers parked their marked patrol cars down the street from Telasco's home and, as they approached, he charged at them with a steak knife. "Shots fired," one officer said over the police radio, calling for paramedics.

The shooting left Mae Smith, a city activist, asking if officers need more training in handling the mentally ill. She has helped raise a 14-year-old relative who exhibits psychiatric symptoms.

"Will one day I have to face the same pain and agony as this person [Lanoue] did?" she asked commissioners.